


the memory of skin

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Facial Shaving, M/M, Shaving, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Ignis has memorized the curve of Noct’s jaw, but he touches the stubble every morning to familiarize himself all over again.[spoilers for the entire game]





	the memory of skin

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: this is an AU where Noctis is alive after ch 14.

Ignis shaves every morning. Noctis shaves a little less, and when he turns over in bed to offer a kiss, his stubble scratches against the skin. In contrast, his lips are smooth. Ignis grimaces against the sandpaper feel of whiskers.

“Time to shave?” 

Ignis nods. 

Ignis has coffee, first, and makes them breakfast. He cracks eggs, seasons them, and lets them sizzle in a light coat of olive oil. Even over the noise of cooking, he can hear Noctis’ stifled yawn and the shuffle of paper. 

The Citadel kitchens are quiet. Less than ten people occupy the building’s living spaces, and only half are ever there at the same time. A few refugees have returned from Lestallum; most of them have squatted in the better standing apartments found within Insomnia, recovering neighborhoods one curbside at a time. 

They eat in sleepy silence. Ignis’ eyelids are heavy, though his left eyelid often droops from the damage it sustained over a decade ago. His coffee is a bit stale, the result of suffering warehouse crops in Lestallum that grew too small—even with rich volcanic compost dug up near Mt. Ravatogh and brought in by the truck full. Since the return of the dawn, the acclimation to sunlight has sunburnt the leaves of many plants. What survives is expensive. The world has had to rely more on trading than gil, however, and essentials like clothing, along with luxuries like electronics, are hidden within many closed up shops of Insomnia. Ignis often pays for his coffee pouches in the form of battery packs, boots, and even cigarette packs, one vice for another.

The king of Lucis and his fiancée eat because they’ve learned to scrape and trade. At least food isn’t as scarce anymore, and rations were lifted a few months ago. They might even be able to obtain enough ingredients for their wedding next year, if agriculture continue to improve.

Some of the items they’ve hunted down include bars of soap. Ignis found plenty of it in a storage chamber deep below the Citadel, where the maids stored all the excess bulk items. He even bumped into a tower of toilet paper in the middle of the storage room.

Soap is the best they have for shaving. They tried tins of shaving cream, but after ten years, many of them were useless. Bottles combusted on shelves of old corner stores years ago, leaving behind sticky residue. 

Shaving involves trust. When Ignis still had his eyesight, they often did it together or for each other. The stakes were raised after Altissia. Ignis often bloodied his face in his attempts and didn’t dare offer to do it for Noctis. With perseverance, he became adept with the blades, seldom breaking the skin in his efforts, but by the time he was good enough, Noctis had been gone for several months.

Since Noctis’ return, he’s been memorizing his jaw, feeling with his fingertips every bump of the skin.

Ignis is the one who lathers Noctis’ face. He coats the area in slow, rotating motions, his thumb caressing areas he won’t need to shave. Although he cannot see his future husband’s face, he imagines he is more handsome than ever.

He adds extra water as he feels the lather attempt to dry. He rubs along Noctis’ neck and can feel him swallow against his fingers. It is a nice neck; Ignis will leave marks on it later, since there will be no stubble to tickle his face.

Ignis traces over the skin again before Noctis hands him the razor.

“Be still,” he whispers before he lowers the blade to the skin, as cautiously as he would if it were his own.

His hearing has bettered to counter the loss of eyesight, and he can make out the sound of the razor as it cuts its path along the jaw. Noctis is still, and is steadied further by Ignis’s free palm cupping his chin. 

Even if Ignis nicks the skin, as he has sometimes done, Noctis must remain in one place, lest the cut be aggravated to something deeper. 

The most fascinating part of this ordeal is how arousing it is to be in charge and to be trusted. Noctis will return the favor when they’re done, which is always much easier on Ignis than the mornings he shaves himself, but he still finds the exchange leaves him breathless and hard. 

Once Ignis has finished, he caresses the skin to see if he has missed a spot. He can feel more liquid beneath his fingertip on Noctis’ chin. A coppery smell mingles with that of the oils and lye in the soap. 

“I cut you,” says Ignis, not hiding his disappointment.

“It’s fine.”

Ignis would kiss the area and perhaps lick away the blood, but the last time he dared, he was reminded of all the times he accidentally managed to get the excess soap in his mouth when he was learning to shave blind. Since then, he has had to refrain. Noctis runs his face beneath the water to wash away the soap residue. 

It is now Ignis’ turn.

Noctis is more careful, having eyesight that favors him the better of the two in this department; if only he could make the same effort more often with his own appearance. His fingers tickle against the neck sometimes, and Ignis holds back a laugh with an amused hum. His face feels cool, even more so as his morning shadow disappears with strips of lather. 

When Noctis is done, Ignis splashes his face clean. He pat dries his face and attempts to sneak his fingers into the drawer beside the sink for the lubricant and condoms; going by the sound of Noctis’ soft, satisfied laugh, he noticed.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” Ignis smiles.

Noctis answers with a kiss.

Shaving one another almost always gets the two of them hard. Ignis frees Noctis of half his clothing as they fumble their kisses against one another, each one hotter and more pressing than the last. Noctis hooks his fingers around the waistband of Ignis’ pants and boxer briefs, and soon they slide down. Ignis steps out of them and toward Noctis, pushing him against the wall. 

“Ignis…” Noctis moans in his ear, and Ignis rubs his fingers along the cleft of his ass to hear him say it again.

“Noct.” Returning favors is important, and it makes Noctis gasp his name again. And again. 

Biting his smooth neck has a similar effect. Ignis sucks at the skin, tasting only a hint of soap—not enough to be offensive, and worth it when it makes Noctis' breath shaky. He’s unable to talk. 

Ignis pulls away and flips Noctis around, pinning him against the wall. His palms knead roughly over the curves of his ass.

“Ignis, please.”

A dollop of lubricant on his fingertips is inserted, ever so carefully. Noctis lets out a gasp that echoes in the luxurious bathroom. Ignis remembers the décor and tries to imagine what it must look like with Noctis trembling beneath his touches.

Beautiful, he’s sure. Noctis always was and always will be beautiful. Every scar, every imperfection of his skin, even the times he had dirt smeared on him—Ignis worships every inch of him and is helpless in his admiration. If Noctis is losing composure, then Ignis is always a bigger mess.

“I love you, Noct,” he whispers as he eases himself inside the warmth of Noctis’ ass. He holds Noctis against him in an embrace as he rolls his hips and listens to the slap of skin and the cries that echo. The sound roars in his ear and brings him closer to coming. Sweat beads down his skin. His fingers claw deeper into Noctis’ skin, enough that it will leave scratches and bruises. One last thrust and he releases, all the tension of his muscles slipping away. He stays inside Noctis as his come spurts inside the protection of the condom. When he slides out wetly, Noctis sighs. 

“Did you come?” asks Ignis when he catches his breath.

“Yeah. You should see the wall.”

“Mm, if only I could.” He can’t resist reaching out and smacking Noctis’ ass. His palm lands expertly, the sound it causes giving him some satisfaction.

“You know what I mean.” Noctis offers him a kiss on the lips as atonement. Ignis accepts. There is nothing to forgive, but affection will always be welcomed. “I love you. And your lips. They’re perfect.”

Ignis is aware of the scar on his bottom lip; he feels it often, worrying it with his fingers when he thinks about how ugly he must be since he lost his eyesight. 

Noctis kisses the scar. 

“You’re perfect,” says Noctis.

“I think the same about you.”

“It’s a good thing you’re marrying me soon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He leans in against Ignis’ chest and laces their fingers together. They ought to shower, but the embrace is nice, and the reassurance even better.

**Author's Note:**

> I um. Wrote a ton of ignoct nonsense on tumblr? And then decided I wanted to turn them into fics because I’m helplessly devoted to this ship. Enough that all my anxiety over the quality of my writing can’t stop me from writing these two…sigh.
> 
> Also, the sunburnt plants problem is a real issue I faced this year in my garden because of our funky weather, which couldn’t make up its mind whether to be freezing, mild, or baking hot. Coffee is hard to come by, I bet. Poor Ignis, do you think he went without during some of those years? Stuff you should grab and hoard in an apocalypse: coffee, cigarettes, pharmaceuticals, and chocolate. Medicine and vices are **important**. xD


End file.
